6 Finally, For the First Time
by piccolina789
Summary: The sixth installment in the post-episode series. Spoilers for all of CSI season six, from "Bodies in Motion" to "Way to Go". Major GSR.
1. Plans in Motion

**A/N: **If we go by CSI time, there's a summer in between each season. So we can assume that between Grave Danger and Bodies in Motion, Sara and Grissom have been "dating", or at least seeing each other outside of work, for at least three months. That should make this chapter make more sense :)

Spoilers for episode 6x1, Bodies in Motion.

* * *

><p>"I'm so much older than you."<p>

"I'm damaged goods."

I looked at her.

"I'm not good at communicating," I said.

"Neither am I."

"I hate confrontation."

"I have trouble asking for help," she put in.

I paused.

"I tend to withdraw when I shouldn't."

"I get way too emotional."

We both stopped walking side-by-side and turned to face each other. Face what we were up against.

"Well, it's all out there," I said slowly. "You think we can get over it?"

"I think we can give it a good try," she said, smiling.

"Good."

We resumed our walking, criss-crossing and weaving around the crowds of people gathered at the Las Vegas Natural History Museum – the perfect place to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon. I knew it would be crowded, but I didn't want to take Sara anywhere else. We had spent the summer enjoying each other's company, talking – really talking – sharing breakfasts and making dinner at each other's places, alternating between Sara's apartment and my townhouse. By August, I was calling her every morning after shift, and it no longer felt uncomfortable or out of place to have her in my home. We were cautious, we were taking things slow. We were making no long-term promises, just seeing how things would go.

But I liked how they were going. I liked having Sara to myself in this context, not crouched over evidence or over a body or in a crime scene. We were two entirely different people, people who were relaxed in each other's company, talked openly and genuinely enjoyed being around each other. It was nice.

We decided from the start to keep what was between us, well, between us. For the logistical reasons as well as the more personal ones. Sara and I had spent years complicating our relationship in front of everyone. We wanted to uncomplicate it by ourselves.

But when it got to be September, I decided it was time for us to have a real date together. We just had to be mindful of where we went, and careful not to run across any one who might spoil our lovely, burgeoning little secret.

That's how we ended up at the museum.

We stopped in front of a huge dinosaur display, and though I knew every word written on the plaque in front of it (I'd come to the museum a lot in the past, albeit, alone), I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sara and pretended to read with her. My fingers lingered towards hers, and I took her hand. She looked up at me and smiled. We stared at the enormous replica of a Tyrannosaurus Rex as a huge group of kids from a day camp ran past us.

"So, did you hear the news?" I asked.

"What news?"

"Warrick's married."

"Warrick's _what?_" she cried. "What, just because I hang around Greg now, I'm out of the loop?"

I laughed.

"Of course not," I said. "Nick only told me yesterday. He bought Warrick, Greg and I dinner as a pseudo bachelor party."

"You went?" she asked, eyebrows high and looking impressed.

"Yes, I went," I said, elbowing her.

"Wow," she said, shaking her head. "Warrick's married. That's just… crazy."

"Well, we all did some crazy things after Nick was taken," I said, squeezing her hand. "When we realized how much there was to lose."

She beamed at me and squeezed my fingers back. I started leading her towards my favorite gallery, the marine life.

"You know, the other day Nick asked me if there was something wrong with you," she said out of nowhere.

I turned my head to her in surprise.

"What?"

"He said you'd left shift on time six days in a row," she said, suppressing a laugh. "I think he's concerned."

"I didn't know he paid such attention," I remarked. "Guess I better leave late for a little while or he'll call an intervention for me."

We stopped in front of an aquarium full of colorful fish and marine life, but even from the corner of my eye, Sara looked distracted.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"You think we're doing this right?"

"What, us?"

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, we work with trained investigators. They're bound to figure it out some time."

"Not if we're sneaky," I tried to joke. She didn't laugh. "Are you saying you want them to know? What about everything we talked about?"

"No, I don't want everyone to know," she replied. "Not yet, anyway. I just think we have to realize that at some point, we might… get caught."

I leaned close to her.

"Are you telling me I should stop holding your hand?"

This time, she did smile.

"No," she said. "No, I'm not saying that at _all_."

"Good."

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the museum's exhibits and enjoying each other's company. As we walked out, the rainy afternoon had cleared into a beautiful blue sky. We both squinted in the sunlight as we made our way to our cars. We had driven separately, since Sara had to work later that night, and it was my night off. I opened the door for her.

"Hey, Sara?"

"Hm?"

"I had a good time today," I said.

She grinned.

"Me too."

"And… for the record," I began. "I don't really mind who knows, but right now, I'm enjoying having you all to myself."

In the glaring sun, her grin grew even wider.

"Me too."


	2. Fight Me

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 6x3, Bite Me.

* * *

><p>"Sidle."<p>

"It's me."

I stopped short.

"Oh. H-hi."

He paused.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said. "Why?"

"Good," he replied. "What are you doing today?"

"I-I dunno," I stammered. "Sleeping…"

"Call me as soon as you get up," he said. "I have something planned."

"Oh. Uh, I don't know Griss—"

He had already hung up. I sighed, put the phone back into the cradle and stared at my kitchen. I had gone home from shift right after Greg and I processed the bloody print that probably closed the case. But as Grissom went with Catherine and Brass to P.D., I hadn't seen him before I left. In fact, I hadn't seen him since we'd processed the house at the beginning of shift. I had sort of avoided him.

I showered and ate, because I knew I had to, and tried to sleep. But I was only able to stare at the ceiling. Truth was, I hadn't stopped thinking about our conversation at the scene, and what it might have been implying.

_Or maybe they were suffocating each other and he couldn't breathe._

Had I imagined his emphasis on the word 'he'? Had I dreamt the knowing look in his eye? Grissom was the master of saying one thing and meaning another. He was a damn puzzle, and while solving him was usually intriguing, it was only frustrating me.

I didn't think being together would be easy. I knew we'd have to work at it. But maybe I just thought, or hoped, that all the complications we'd gone through to get to this point would make things just a _little _easier. But no. I was constantly second-guessing myself, reading too far into things, wondering whether I was doing too little or not enough, worrying that we were moving too fast or too slow, and constantly, _constantly _wondering what he was thinking or if he was worrying about the same things.

Was his comment innocuous or was he trying to tell me something? Maybe we were too much for him. Maybe _I _was too much for him. My stomach twisted in knots at that thought. Had we finally overcome our impediments, only to realize we wouldn't work after all?

Eventually, I did fall asleep, but it was restless. I tried to stay in bed until a reasonable hour, but finally gave up and called him like he'd told me to. I wasn't able to get in a word when he answered – he only told me to dress and wait for him outside.

I pulled on khaki shorts and a black tank top – it was supposed to be an unusually hot day – and did as I was told. Grissom pulled up not ten minutes later, a Chicago Cubs hat on his head and a goofy grin on his face that almost, almost made the knot in my stomach loosen.

"Hi," he said warmly when I got into the car. He leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Hi," I replied. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Not yet," he said, backing out of my drive. He stole a glance at me as we waited at the light. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head.

"C'mon, Sara," he said. "Give me a _little _credit."

I paused, chewing the inside of my lip and contemplating how to word my anxiety.

"Are we… I mean, am I… too much for you?"

It was his turn to sidestep the question.

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that… I don't want to stifle you," I said cautiously. "I know that you value your privacy… so do I. I just don't want you to feel like I'm taking up all of your time… spending too much of it together."

When he was silent, I barreled on.

"I love spending time with you," I said. "I do. But I… I'd understand if it's too much. I mean, we work together, come home and see each other outside of work, and then do it all over again. If it's too much, just… tell me. You won't hurt my feelings."

His sunglasses blocked his eyes from my view, but from the creases in his forehead and the 'O' shape his mouth had formed, I assumed he was taken aback.

"I'm over talking again, aren't I?" I laughed nervously. "I-I'm sorry."

"Does this have anything to do with what we talked about at the crime scene?" he asked.

"Maybe," I admitted quietly.

"Is this why I didn't see you after we processed the house?"

I shrugged.

"Did you think I was referring to us?"

"What was I supposed to think?" I gasped, exasperated. "This is still so… new… I-I don't know what I'm doing half the time. And I'm scared of making a mistake because I don't want to mess this up."

"Me too, Sara," he said. "Me too. I have no idea what I'm doing. And we will make mistakes, but that's all part of it. Honey, I wasn't talking about us, I promise."

I nodded, but remained unconvinced.

"I _love_ spending time with you."

I nodded again.

"Where are we going?" I asked quietly.

"Primm," he replied.

"What in the world is in Primm, Nevada?"

"You'll see."

Sometime later, we pulled up to a casino. Grissom took my hand when we got out of the car and led me inside, right up to the loading dock for a roller coaster.

"The Desperado," he said. "One of my favorite coasters, and one of my favorite places in Vegas. I wanted to share it with my favorite person."

"We're riding this?" I asked dubiously. The yellow steel tracks looked intimidating.

"You'll like it, I promise," he assured. "It doesn't even go upside down."

So a few minutes later, we were strapped in, side-by-side in the cart. The coaster took off – through the roof of the casino – raised us up at least 200 feet, and dropped us down. I knew I was screaming, but I couldn't hear it over the noise, the tracks were whizzing by me on either side. The sharp twists and turns threw me into Grissom, and him into me, and by the time we pulled into the dock again, we were both breathless. He patted my hand and undid our seatbelts.

"So?"

He climbed out of the car and I followed.

"Oh my God," I said, my hand on my chest and still trying to catch my breath.

He grinned at me.

"You're the first person I've ever taken here," he said, a little proudly.

I had to smile back, and took in a mouthful of air.

"I think I can finally breathe."

"Exactly."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"For the longest time, I had myself convinced that being alone was the best option for me," he said. "Relationships are messy, and caring for people, forming attachments to them, gets people hurt. I didn't want that."

He took my hand.

"Until I realized what I have with you," he continued. "It was like I didn't even know I was being smothered until I knew what it felt like to breathe."

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"So, no, Sara, I don't feel suffocated by you. Or by our relationship. On the contrary, I finally feel like I can breathe."

His thumb moved back and forth over my fingers, the small touch that could tell me and do so much to me. I believed him, and I was happy. I squeezed his fingers.

"Let's ride it again."


	3. Steps

**A/N: **It feels so good to finally write fluff again! I hope you won't get too bored of it :) Also, note the rating change for this story... starting here.

Spoilers for episode 6x5, Gum Drops.

* * *

><p>"I miss you."<p>

I smiled at her idea of a greeting. She doesn't waste any time.

"I miss you, too. How is the case?"

She sighed.

"Okay. We're still working on figuring out what happened. It's… a lot."

"You enjoying your quality time with Nick and Greggo?" I teased.

"Oh, absolutely," she said. "You wouldn't _believe _how many times they've hit on me since we've been here. It's ridiculous."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Jealousy is not a good color on me," I warned her.

"Hmm," she murmured, before pausing.

"Is everything okay, honey?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, everything's fine. It's just… Nick thinks the little girl in the family is still alive. I tried to convince him otherwise. I just don't want him to get his hopes up and be crushed when we find her, you know?"

"You're a good friend to Nick, Sara."

"How was your class?" she asked.

"Oh, fine," I answered. "Entirely uneventful. And now I'm just here… waiting for you…"

"Well, if that's not motive to wrap the case, I don't know what is," she teased. "I have to process a new lead, but I'll call you when I'm on my way home, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Sara."

"Hey, Gil?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you get gold stars as a kid?" she threw out.

I chuckled.

"Honey, I was an only child with a disabled mother," I said. "Gold stars weren't part of the deal."

"Oh. Okay."

She sounded oddly disappointed, but I chuckled again, softly.

"Bye, honey," I said. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

><p>When Sara came home, I had a surprise dinner made for her, complete with the candles and fancy dessert, and whatever fatigue still lingering on her face when she walked through the door disappeared within moments when she saw my arranged table. She practically threw herself into my arms.<p>

"This is perfect," she breathed. "Thank you."

I held onto her, realizing, too, how perfect it really was. But I wasn't thinking about dinner. It was perfect that after wrapping a case, Sara came to my townhouse. It was perfect that I expected her to. It was perfect that it felt so good to hold her again, and it was perfect to realize how much I actually had missed her, even though we'd only been apart for a few days.

We ate my fancy dinner and fancy dessert, caught up on three days' worth of gossip and stories, and ended up on my couch, with her in my arms. Her head leaned against my chest, and my fingers were playing through her hair.

Perfect.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly.

"How happy I am," she answered, turning to look at me. "With you. Here."

I planted a kiss in her hair.

"Me too."

She smiled, and began to squirm around so that we were sitting face-to-face. I reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and left my hand near her ear. With a gentle force, I guided her head toward me, and our lips met, cautiously at first, then with more eagerness. I had stumbled upon the realization of just how much I loved to kiss Sara, and I couldn't get enough.

Both my hands were buried in her hair, and hers were wrapped around my neck. She was practically in my lap, and my hands traveled lower, tracing the curve of her spine and resting on her hips. Our breathing grew heavier, and every time our lips parted, even if only for the slightest of seconds, I felt a rumbling in my belly that groaned to put them back together again. Her kiss was addicting, her touch, exhilarating.

I couldn't get enough.

I slid my hands into her shirt, feeling the soft silkiness of her skin under my hands. While tall and lanky (her words), everything about her was still soft and gentle (my words), and I loved the way she felt against me. I lifted her shirt off and kissed from her freckled shoulders into the valley of her breasts. This was heading somewhere, fast, and though I knew I was ready, I didn't want to rush her. I wanted her to be comfortable. I wanted her to trust me.

But when her hands slid up _my _shirt just a few seconds later, I felt the same urgency in her hands that I felt in my heart. She unbuttoned every button with trembling fingers, and when it was off, I leaned forward, guiding her beneath me, and covering her body with mine.

We kept kissing, but our hands had an agenda of their own, and they didn't stop traveling up and down and back and forth over every inch of exposed skin. When I finally did pull back, I looked deep into the dark depth of her eyes. My fingers tailed down her stomach, and rested on the button to her jeans. I could see her stomach rising and falling rapidly as I undid the button carefully. I put my lips on her neck, kissing her as I slid the zipper down.

"We're sure about this?" she breathed. "I mean, we aren't going too fast? It's only been three months—"

I pulled my mouth away from her skin.

"It's been six years."

She looked at me for a moment, then grabbed my face in both her hands, kissing me with the fierceness that I had been craving. Feverish and passionate, and yet romantic and loving at the same time. How it always was with Sara.

We stumbled our way towards my bedroom, leaving clothes in our wake, until, when we reached my mattress, we were left with nothing. I eased her onto the bed, positively drinking in the sight of her. She blushed, a deep red flush that went all the way down her freckled chest. Slowly, I crawled on top of her and began tracing every line and curve with my hands, leaving goose bumps on her skin in their wake, and when I was done, I went back over every inch, with my lips. When I was finished examining her, she took her turn with me. Her long fingers turned my skin on fire with every touch and I felt a hot, bubbling passion growing in me that I hadn't felt for a long time. It was like we were discovering each other for the first time, and I never wanted it to end.

But all the teasing and escalating had to lead to somewhere, and eventually, we were there. She was below me again, and looking at her, sprawled deliciously before me, I wanted nothing more than to please her, but for once, I was at a loss of how to proceed. I didn't want to anything too fast or too slow, I wanted to do everything right with Sara. But when I looked at her, I saw need in her eyes.

"Please," she breathed. "I trust you."

I moved my face along the contour of her stomach and legs, relishing the feel of her skin against my beard. Fleetingly, I was reminded of something I was told on a particularly enlightening case.

_Some tickler you got there. You got everything you need to please a woman. _

At least I was finally putting it to good use.

And I could hear and feel the effect it was having on Sara. Her breathing grew faster, harder, and she squirmed below me, inadvertently lifting her hips as my mouth and face grew nearer to them. Finally, I positioned myself where I knew she wanted me, between her legs, and I nipped and kissed as my beard rubbed against the inside of her thighs. She was already ready for me, but I could positively feel her tighten at my touch, and I knew it was time.

I lingered over her, looking for confirmation in her eyes, and saw passion and trust. So I slowly started to enter her. We both gasped in tandem, and it was a blur from there. With all the banter and back and forth and chasing around we'd done, we found our perfect rhythm here. She was made for me, and I for her. We were joined, in so many ways, and at the culmination, it was beautiful. Truly, like nothing I'd ever seen or felt.

I shuddered at the thought of parting from her, so I stayed, and we gathered our sweaty bodies up in each other's arms. I had seen and heard of so many accounts when sex meant the end. There was nothing left, nothing to reach for. But with Sara, I knew it was only the beginning.

I planted a kiss in her hair, and as she sighed contentedly against my chest, I was struck by a wonderful, yet unexpected realization. And in the dark, with her pressed against me tightly, I wanted to say the words aloud, but something small was holding them back. I knew they were true, and surprisingly, I wasn't afraid or unprepared for them, because I think, deep down, I'd known it for a long time. But tonight wasn't _quite_ the time. Not yet.

So instead, I kissed her again.

"Sara?" I murmured into her skin.

"Hmm?"

I brushed her hair back from her shoulder, and kissed the exposed skin there, too. I ran my hand lightly down her arm, just loving, _loving_, every inch of her.

"This is perfect," I told her.

I felt her smile against me as she drifted off into sleep. I settled down further into the sheets, closer to her, and joined her, a smile on my face.

Perfect.


	4. An Arrow Pierces It

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 6x7 & 6x8, A Bullet Runs Through It.

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><p>"Talk about one hell of a shift," I said as I poured pancake batter onto my griddle. "Is Jim okay?"<p>

"No," Grissom said softly. "No, I don't think so. He went to Bell's service, even though I told him it was a bad idea."

"He's going to get a hard time from the review board," I said, pulling down two glasses from the cabinet. Grissom filled them with orange juice. "I hope he'll be all right."

"He will be," he replied. "It was an accident, but… you know he doesn't see it that way."

"That's why I'll never be a cop," I said, shaking my head.

"Me either."

He watched me flip the pancakes, and silence settled over us. I knew there was an elephant in the room, a small one, perhaps, but an elephant nonetheless.

"Gil," I started. "I-I'm sorry about how I behaved towards Sofia. She was having a hard time, and… and I should have been more sympathetic."

He studied me with those blue, blue eyes, and I had to break his gaze, staring at the stove instead.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked calmly. "And not her?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess… I didn't want you to hold it against me?"

He paused.

"You still think there was something between us, don't you?" he asked.

I shrugged and flipped the pancakes again. He took the spatula from my hand and placed his own hands on my hips, turning me towards him.

"Tell me, Sara."

I bit my lip.

"Why'd she go to you?" I asked weakly.

"She just needed someone to talk to," he replied.

"No," I clarified. "Why did she go to _you_?"

"I don't know, honey," he said after a beat. "She was confused. Upset. She couldn't talk to most of her department. I was… around."

I fidgeted in his grasp. The pancakes needed flipped.

"I guess I feel… threatened… by her," I said, a hint of question in my voice.

"Don't be," he reassured. "Sofia is a great cop and a good co-worker. Nothing else."

"I know," I confirmed. "I-I know that. I do. Just insecurities, I guess. She trusts you."

The pancakes were burning, but as Grissom pulled me closer, they were the last things from my mind.

"Do you trust me?" he breathed.

He nuzzled his face into my neck, and I could feel the scratchiness of his beard against my skin, a touch I discovered was surprisingly arousing. I gasped for breath.

"Of course," I whispered back.

Our breakfast burned, forgotten, as we stumbled towards my couch, not even making it to my bedroom, and Grissom showed me just how much other women _didn't _matter.


	5. Man's Best Friend

**A/N: **More happiness in GSR land :)

Spoilers for episode 6x9, Dog Eat Dog.

* * *

><p>"Is this your idea of a joke?"<p>

Grissom stared at me.

"No," he said, surprised.

"After the case Nick and I just had," I continued. "You decide you want to get a dog _now_?"

"No," he repeated. "I want _us_ to get a dog."

I stopped, surprised.

"But we… I…" I tailed off. "My apartment doesn't allow dogs."

"My townhouse does," he said, winking.

I stared back at him. He looked genuine, excited.

"Why do you want to do this now?" I asked.

"I want us to have something we can share together," he replied.

"We can't just get a fish?" I half-teased. "I mean, do we have enough time to take care of a dog?"

He smiled at me.

"We'll make it work," he said, taking my hand. "I want to do this with you."

I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Well," I started. "I've never had a dog."

"What?" he exclaimed, surprised. "Man's best friend?"

I shrugged.

"I moved from house to house a lot," I explained. "There were so many kids, not really room for a dog. And my parents weren't really pet people."

"Well, then it's final," he said. "Let's go get one."

"Right now?" I asked, chuckling at his eagerness. "Okay. But under one circumstance."

"Shoot."

"We get him from a shelter," I said. "I've always wanted to rescue an animal."

He leaned over to kiss me, once, then twice.

"Deal."

* * *

><p>I don't know how it happened, but in a shelter full of fluffy, roly-poly puppies, I walked straight over to the big, drooly boxer in the corner. He wasn't a soft, pudgy retriever, but he was just as cute to me. Curled up by himself, maybe I identified with the outcast in him, I don't know. But I knew as soon as I saw him, that I wanted him.<p>

"What do you think?" I asked Grissom as I scratched his ears.

"It's up to you, honey," he said before turning to the shelter's owner. "What's his story?"

"He's a year old," she told us. "We don't know where he came from, found him in a back alley nearly six months ago. He's been here ever since."

"No one wanted him?" I asked in disbelief as the dog sniffed my fingers in curiosity.

"No one so far," the owner said. "He's a sweetheart though. Name's Hank. My son named him after his favorite baseball player."

I lifted my gaze to meet Grissom's eyes. I could barely keep myself from laughing, he looked horrified. He squatted next to me and scratched the dog's ears.

"Out of all the puppies in the place, you had to pick the one named after your ex-boyfriend," he said in disbelief.

"He _was _a dog," I chuckled.

"Maybe we can get him to respond to something else," Grissom suggested. "Buddy? Rufus? How about Max?"

The dog's head laid solidly on the ground.

"Hank?" I suggested. His ears perked right up and I laughed. "Sorry, honey, I think we're stuck with it."

"I'll learn to love him," he smiled. "We'll take him."

We stopped on the way home at the pet supply store, picking up an enormous bag of dog food, a bed, toys and all the other accoutrements we needed for Hank. At fifty pounds, he was hardly a lap dog, but he sat firmly on my lap the entire ride home, looking pleased as his head (and drool) stuck outside the window. As soon as we opened the door to Grissom's townhouse, he bounded in, sniffing and searching his new home before settling comfortably in his new bed in Grissom's bedroom. We decided to follow suit, and crawled into bed as well, admiring our beautiful, massive, loving new puppy.

"This was a good idea," I said, snuggling up against Grissom as he put his arm around me and pulled me closer to his chest. "I love him already."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, snaking a hand up his shirt.

I climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply.

"Sara," he murmured, trying to pull away.

I continued with my kissing, moving down his neck.

"Sara," he said again. "We can't… the dog… is in the room."

It would have been hilarious, had I not been too preoccupied with the feel of his skin against my lips. I slipped out of my shirt with ease and pressed my chest into him. He positively whimpered.

"Don't worry," I breathed. "He can close his eyes."


	6. Obstacles

**A/N: **I'm posting this quick before work, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Spoilers for episode 6x15, Pirates of the Third Reich.

* * *

><p>After a very, very long shift, I finally left the hospital to head home. I knew Sara was there waiting for me, and that was the only thought keeping me going as I pushed through the doors to the parking lot. I'd spent the last six hours at the hospital, first checking in Wolfowitz and getting him taken care of before arresting him, and then with Heather.<p>

She had been calm since I first sought her out in the morgue, but now, she was scaring me. She was quiet and sullen, refusing to speak more than four words to me, and looking like a shattered, broken ghost of the woman I'd last seen years ago. Though she wouldn't speak, I sat by her bed, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking. I made her promise me that she would find help, whatever help she needed. I could only do so much for her, and as her friend, I was worried for her.

I was worried for her. I only hoped that she could someday return to the vibrant, intriguing woman that she was when we had met.

I thought about Heather the entire ride home, but once I stepped foot in my kitchen, I smiled when I thought of Sara. The townhouse was dark, and I knew she was probably fast asleep, in the stillness of my bedroom.

Sure enough, she was curled up on her half of the mattress. She was still, but even from afar I could sense a tenseness in her shoulders that told me she wasn't asleep. I shed my clothing and crawled in next to her, and I felt her body stiffen even more.

"You're home late," she said, not turning to face me.

"Sorry," I breathed, sliding a hand onto her waist and kissing her neck. "I got caught up at the hospital."

She gave the slightest of nods, but when she still didn't turn around, I knew something was wrong. I withdrew my hand from her skin and moved it to her hair, brushing it aside gently. It was meant as a loving touch, but she pulled away from me even further, twisting out of the sheets and turning to face me. I noticed that she was wearing pajamas, something she hadn't done once in the last two weeks.

Something was definitely wrong.

And before I could even ask, she spoke.

"Why did you pull me off the case?" she asked.

"I… what?"

"The Kessler case," she said, clearly aggravated. "Why did you take me off it?"

"I didn't," I said slowly. "Well, I… I-I guess I did. But it was because we had another case come in, Sara, somebody had to cover it."

"And that someone had to be me."

"I—yes."

She shook her head in exasperation.

"The entire team worked that case until close except me," she said before pausing. "Is there some reason you didn't want me on it?"

"No," I said cautiously. "Why wouldn't I?"

A beat passed between us.

"You don't want me to meet her," she said matter-of-factly.

I swallowed and paused. We'd never discussed Heather. I guess I'd assumed Sara knew of her – word traveled fast at the lab, after all, especially with the likes of Hodges and Catherine around. Subconsciously, I probably _did_ want to keep Heather and Sara apart – separate – because Heather was a point of confusion in my life, a time and a person that I still couldn't easily define. And with Sara… well, there was no mistaking with Sara. Not any more. I knew what I had with her and what I felt for her. I had nothing to hide from her. I hadn't seen Heather in over two years. I had acted as her friend through the loss of her daughter.

But still… there was _something_ keeping me from opening up to Sara about Heather. I just couldn't do it.

"That's ridiculous, honey," I said, trying to sound confident. "I… I didn't want to show any favoritism… keeping you with me all the time. We've talked about this, we have to be careful—"

"Don't," Sara cut in. "Don't go there. I know that's not it. Why can't you be honest with me?"

I looked at her, and was actually surprised to see no accusation in her gaze, or even real anger. She was just confused, and I was making it all worse.

"Heather lost her daughter," I explained, though I knew she probably already knew. "She almost crossed the line tonight in seeking revenge. She wasn't herself. She needed someone to tell her 'stop'."

"And you were that person," Sara said softly.

"Yes," I answered.

She nodded.

"I just… wish you would let me in on these things," she said. "I don't expect you to tell me everything. But… just remember that I'm one half of this relationship too, and when something important or emotional is going on, you don't have to shove me aside – for protection, or… whatever. I can help."

"I know," I said gently.

But inside, my stomach sank. All Sara was asking was to be included, and it happened to be on the one person, the one element in my life that I just couldn't bring myself to share with her. And the worst part was, I didn't know if I ever could. I was lying to her face, but what else could I do?

"So," I started cautiously, searching her face for the faintest hint of a smile. "We're okay?"

She took a deep breath.

"We're okay," she said, taking my hand. "Thanks."

I felt my stomach sink even further. When Sara slid back under the covers, her shoulders were more relaxed, and she positioned herself close to me. She drifted off to sleep with her head on my chest and my arm around her, like usual, but I stayed up far later, thinking and wondering and worrying.

I had come so far in my ability to share my life. I worked at it day by day, and I let myself open up to her, become known by her, and it felt wonderful. It truly did. But Heather felt like one giant obstacle that I just couldn't tackle, and I felt guilty for keeping that from Sara.

So as much as I appreciated and cherished my friendship and history with Heather, for the sake of my relationship with Sara, I hoped that it would be the last time that I would see Heather in a professional capacity. She still somehow felt like a forbidden secret, a risk, even though she wasn't. I wished her well, I hoped she would recover, but I hoped her to do so without crossing paths with me.

Sara was too much to lose.


	7. The Usual Words

**A/N****: **Busy posting week ahead! Expect two chapters a day until Friday. We're crusin', and I think you'll like what's comin'! As always, let me know what you think!

Spoilers for episode 6x18, The Unusual Suspect.

* * *

><p>"She played me," I whispered quietly.<p>

We were in Gil's bed, the sheets pooled at our waists, and our naked torsos were only inches from each other. He was stroking my arm softly, but I stared hard at a spot on the wall just over his shoulder, trying not to betray just how mad at myself I was.

"It happens, honey," he tried to comfort.

"It shouldn't," I said firmly. "Not to me."

He gave a little sigh, and rearranged our bodies so that he was holding me tight, my head lying on his chest. His thumb ran back and forth over my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the wonderful smell and feel of him, trying to control the anger in my voice.

"Nick and Ecklie didn't fall for it," I continued. "Not for a second, but I did. I played right into it, and she read me like a book."

"Why?" he asked softly.

I knew he wasn't being judgmental. He was just trying to get me to talk about it. But even his softly caressing thumb wasn't calming me down, I was only getting more infuriated.

"Because… we're so… alike," I answered slowly. "I… identified with her."

"Maybe," he said quietly. "You're both smart. Although I imagine that you were taller at her age."

He was trying to make me smile, but I just didn't have it in me to give him one, not even a fake.

"They're both going to get away with it," I whispered. "And it's my fault. What kind of justice is that for Stacy Vollmer's family?"

Suddenly, I felt his fingers on my chin, and he tilted my head up to look at him.

"This is not your fault, Sara," he said firmly. "You followed your instincts, like you should. This time, you were wrong. But you have to learn from it, and move on."

"I just have a feeling that this will be a case that follows me," I said. "One I can't put behind me."

"The one that got away."

"We're not supposed to let them get away."

"You're too hard on yourself," he said gravely.

He tried leaning in to kiss me, but I pulled away, still too filled with irritation and regret.

"What was yours?" I asked.

"My what?"

"The one you let get away."

"There are many, Sara," he said.

"But what was the _one_?" I asked, knowing he knew what I was getting at.

He shifted again, rolling onto his side so that we were facing each other, eye-to-eye.

"It was my last case in Minnesota," he said. "A serial rapist. He did terrible, horrible things to women, but left them alive so they had to deal with the aftermath of the incident. He left infuriating clues behind, and we came maddeningly close to catching him several times, but we never did."

"Never?" I repeated, stunned. "So… he's carrying on raping women?"

"He must have stopped at some point," he explained. "I kept tabs on the cases after I left, but no other victims came forward that pointed to the same M.O., so he either got tired, or died, or something. But it still kills me that we were never able to figure out who he was."

"You said it was your last case in Minnesota," I said softly.

"I couldn't stay," he said, equally quiet. "Not after I was beat by someone so cruel and heartless. If I stayed, his victory would haunt me everyday. I needed a change of scenery."

"Vegas?"

"Vegas."

We were quiet for a while, and I settled myself back into his arms and onto his chest, a place that was rapidly becoming one of my favorites to spend time in. Grissom's story actually helped calm me, at least a little, because my heart was no longer racing and the blood surging through my veins. As much as I beat myself up about it, we all had the ones that got away from us. And you couldn't get hung up on the one that went wrong, and forget about all those that went right.

"Thanks," I murmured into his chest.

"For what, honey?"

His hands lingered in my hair, twisting strands around his fingers. I smiled.

"You know."

I was just about to fall asleep when I heard his voice cut through the darkness.

"Sara?"

"Hmm?" I murmured.

He paused, and I felt his fingers still.

"I love you."

For a moment, I had to convince myself that I wasn't dreaming. I lifted my head to meet his gaze, and I found such honest sincerity and vulnerability in his eyes that it made my heart want to break and sing at the same time. I leaned up and kissed him, trying to blink away the tears in my eyes and hoping that, in the dark, he wouldn't see them.

But he must have felt them drop onto his skin, because as our lips parted, he wiped below my eyes, keeping his hands on my face, cradling my head.

"I love you," he repeated.

He gathered me up as tightly as he could, and planted kiss after kiss in my hair. Through tears and the widest smile I'd ever grinned, I said aloud the words I'd known for what seemed like years.

"I love you, too."


	8. Enchanted

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 6x19, Spellbound.

* * *

><p>"So did you know Greg has a sixth sense? Or was this information only just recently released?"<p>

"What?"

Sara started laughing, until her laugh turned into a hacking cough. Even through the phone, I could hear it rattle in her chest.

"Honey, you sound terrible," I said.

"I'm fine," she said. "It was much worse this morning, trust me."

"We missed you at work."

I could feel her smile.

"I missed you too."

"Well, I'll be home soon, but I'm picking up veggie noodle on the way, so don't make anything."

"You don't have to do that," she began.

"I'd make you my mother's special recipe, but that takes time," I said. "Have you eaten much today?"

"No," she admitted. "I lost the glass of orange juice I had for breakfast, and I haven't tried anything since."

"I'll be there soon, honey."

I ended the call, made a quick stop at the grocery store and went straight to Sara's apartment, letting myself in with the spare key. I poured the soup into a bowl from Sara's cabinet, and placed it in the microwave to reheat. Then, I sought out my poor, sick little Sara.

The lights were off in her bedroom, but a faint glow from the television told me she was probably in there. And sure enough, buried under the comforter, she was lying on her stomach with a water bottle on one side of her, and a box of tissue on the other. A container full of Vick's Vapor Rub was on the bedside table, along with an enormous bag of cough drops. I made my way to the bed and sat on the edge. I reached out and brushed back her hair.

"Don't," Sara groaned into the blankets. "You'll get sick."

"How are you feeling?"

She moaned again.

"That great, huh?"

She turned onto her side, her face still half-buried into her pillow.

"It's miserable," she answered. "I don't even know where I caught it from."

She sneezed, a monstrous, loud sneeze, and then started to cough, her body shuddering with every phlegmy breath she took. When she calmed down, she flopped face down again, and I ran my palm up and down her back.

"Oh, honey."

"I mean it, Gil," she said. "You better get away from me, or you'll catch it too."

"I'm not leaving you," I told her. "And I have an unusually strong immune system. Can you sit?"

She sniffed.

"Yeah."

"Okay," I said. "You get yourself settled, and I'll grab the soup."

When I returned with a steaming bowl of soup a few minutes later, she had rustled herself into an upright position, slumped against her pillows. Her eyes and nose were red and she looked like she wanted to do nothing but sleep.

"Here," I said, handing her the bowl with a towel underneath. "Careful."

"Thanks," she managed in a hoarse whisper.

I watched her take a few slow mouthfuls of the soup in between coughs and sniffles before she set it down.

"You can do better than that," I teased her. "At least have a little more."

"I'm okay," she sniffed.

I stared at her.

"Sara."

She stared right back.

"Gil."

"You need to eat," I said. "Now, eat."

She narrowed her eyes at me, but managed a few more mouthfuls before I determined that she'd had enough. I placed the bowl on the bedside table and she wriggled back under her covers. I re-positioned myself towards the end of her bed, and fished a foot from the blankets, starting to knead it. She poked her head up and raised her eyebrows at me.

"Your reward for being such a good patient," I told her.

She rolled her eyes at me, but laid back as I massaged her feet. She was quiet for so long, besides for her ragged breathing, that I thought she might have fallen asleep. But when I tucked her back into the blankets, she murmured at me.

"You should go," she said. "Hank'll be needing a walk… and food."

I leaned up to kiss her forehead.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said throatily. "Just hand me the Vick's before you go."

I grabbed the tub from the nightstand and unscrewed it.

"Allow me."

I dipped my hand into the strong-smelling stuff and pulled Sara's pajama top down a little. I kissed her chest before smearing the Vick's over her skin, then dabbing it underneath her nose. She sighed.

"Thanks," she moaned. "Sorry I'm so pathetic. I'm sure this isn't how you wanted to spend your night."

"With you?" I said. "Always."

She gave me a weak smile before she was seized with another coughing fit.

"Get some sleep," I told her, turning off her television. "I'll check in on you in a few hours."

She mumbled something into the pillow I couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

She turned her head towards me.

"I said I love you," she said hoarsely. "Even when you're over-caring."

I chuckled.

"I love you too, Sara," I said. "Even sick and pathetic."

I whispered goodnight, closed the door, and headed for her couch. I'd dropped Hank off at a dog sitter's for the night, and I had every intention of spending the night looking after Sara. She'd reprimand me for it when she woke, of course.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.


	9. Whosyomama

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 6x21, Rashomama.

* * *

><p>"This better be one heck of a date," I said to him as a greeting.<p>

"Good morning to you, too," he said.

"Good morning," I replied, putting my hands on my hips and throwing him a teasing smile. "I got Greg to take my shift tonight."

"Good."

I got into the car and Grissom followed suit. I dropped my bag in the backseat, next to a big blue cooler Grissom must have packed.

"Are you going to tell me what exactly it is we're doing that will last all day and night?" I asked.

He grinned at me.

"Are you ready for a road trip?"

I narrowed my eyes at him as he started to back out of my drive.

"Where are we going?"

"Can't tell you anything but that you'll love it," he said teasingly. "And it's eight hours away."

"Eight hours? You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope," he said happily. "But you did hear me say you'd love it, right?"

I huffed, but I didn't mind the drive. More time to spend together.

"Well, I hope you packed breakfast, because I skipped eating in the interest of getting more sleep," I said.

"You can sleep on the way," he suggested. "I won't mind your lack of company."

I laughed.

"I haven't slept in a car since I was a kid," I said. "I'd have to be pretty exhausted to conk out."

"Well, I guess I'm stuck with your company then," he said.

"Lucky you."

I reached across the console and took his hand. He turned to smile at me. The morning sun was rising around us, framing us in a bath of molten golden light.

And I wasn't surprised to find the eight hours flew by. We ate the fruit cups and orange juice juiceboxes he'd packed for breakfast, and then the veggie sandwiches he'd made for lunch. The fact that he'd "cooked" and gone grocery shopping for our little venture was not lost on me.

We played "_Would you Rather?"_ and "_I Spy_" and "_20 Questions_", and discovered we were both far too good at the latter to continue. We acted like kids and giggled like teenagers. We held hands almost the entire ride. An hour out of our final destination, we took up "_Truth or Dare_".

"Truth."

"You haven't done one dare," I accused. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Honey, what kind of dare could I possibly do while driving?"

"I can think of a few good ones," I teased.

He smirked at me.

"Well, save one, and I'll do it last. Now, truth."

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"I don't," he answered honestly. "I believe in attraction at first sight. I think to truly love someone, you need time to know who they really are."

He looked at me tentatively, probably hoping his answer didn't upset me in any way, but I nodded at him.

"Was it?" I asked. "Attraction at first sight?"

"With us?" he clarified. "Yes."

"And when was it love?"

"Haven't I already answered my truth?" he joked.

"Since when do we play by the rules?" I teased right back. "Tell me. Nick's kidnapping?"

He shook his head.

"Adam Trent?" I guessed again. "My suspension? The lab explosion?"

I paused.

"Is it bad that I could just go on?"

"Well, all of them are wrong," he said softly. "It was the Strip Strangler case."

My mouth dropped a little.

"That long?"

"It was my first encounter with the realization that I could lose you," he said. "And it scared the hell out of me. I realized I care about you in a different way than I do Nick or Catherine or Warrick. I realized it was love."

We were both silent for a moment, and I knew the question that was lingering in the air. Why did he wait so long, if he'd known so early? But I didn't want to ask it, not now. That would be a topic for another day.

"When did you know?" he asked.

"Excuse me, I don't think you've asked for truth or dare."

He glared at me.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I said before bursting out laughing. "Kidding. I'm kidding. Truth."

"When did you know you loved me?" Grissom asked again.

"When I dropped you off at the airport in San Francisco," I said without a moment's hesitation. Our eyes met. "It's true. As soon as you walked away from me, I realized I loved you. It took all the years following to show me just how much."

The corner of his mouth tugged up. He raised our locked hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand.

"I want to ask you another one," he told me.

"I don't think that's how the game works," I teased. "It's your turn."

He pulled my bottom lip down for me in plea and I couldn't resist.

"Oh all right," I conceded. "Truth."

"Are you really anti-wedding?"

I paused.

"You said truth," Grissom urged. "You have to tell it."

"I'm _not_ anti-wedding," I said. "I just have less respect for people who do things the way they _think_ they're supposed to do them, instead of the way they want them."

"Okay."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just for general knowledge," he said, winking. "I learn something new about you every day."

I winked back at him.

"So… are we there yet?"

"Actually, yes," he said, taking a right into the drive. "Welcome to the Animal Ark."

I gazed around as he parked.

"You know, if you wanted to go to the zoo, we didn't have to come all the way up to Reno," I said, getting out of the car and stretching. "The Las Vegas Zoo is fifteen minutes from the Strip."

"This isn't a zoo," Grissom said, joining me on the side of the car and taking my hand again. "It's an animal sanctuary. It's where they take wild animals that aren't able to return to their natural habitat."

We walked towards the entrance, and as he handed the worker on duty two guest passes, I looked around in amazement.

"I thought you'd like it."

"Worth the eight hours," I agreed.

It was a beautiful day, and at 3 p.m. in the afternoon, the park was crawling with kids, parents, volunteers and school groups. We made our way around the habitats, spending an equal amount of time in front of each one. I was intrigued by the owls, and watched them with y mouth slightly agape, while I could see him watching me with a smile.

A few hours later, we'd seen most of the park and the animals. Except for the one he'd apparently specifically been saving for last.

"An Asian Tiger?" I guessed correctly. "He's beautiful."

"His name is Shere Khan," he told me.

"How do you know that?" I laughed.

"He's mine."

I felt my eyes widen.

"What?"

"Well, in principle," he said. "He was sold into captivity as a kitten, and brought to the Ark over ten years ago. I adopted him. He's mine for the year."

"What does that mean?" I asked, my eyes focused on the roaming tiger.

"It mostly goes to food and veterinary care," he said. "But I get cool stuff, too. Look."

He directed me to the sign posted on the wall of the tiger's enclosure.

_Shere Khan is supported by Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle. Thank you for your generous donation and continued support for our animals' care. _

My eyes grew even wider as I looked up at him.

"I put him in your name, too," he said softly.

I felt nothing but sheer joy and amazement. I stepped closer to him and tilted my head towards him. He accepted my soft, warm kiss, and we both parted with a smile. I kept my arms wrapped around him as we watched the tiger roam and then disappear into the expanse of his enclosure.

"This place is amazing," I murmured. "I'm so glad you took me here."

"Me too," Grissom smiled. He squeezed me tightly. "Should we head back?"

"I guess we should," I sighed. "I could watch him all day."

"We'll come back," he promised. "We are his parents, after all."

I giggled and squeezed me back. We walked towards the exit, hand in hand again, watching the kids around us run past in excitement. I kissed me again before we got into the car.

"I'm pretty sure this was the best date I've ever been on," I said.

"Hank never took you to an animal sanctuary?" he joked.

I just glared at him in response, but I took his hand as soon as we were back in the car. We didn't play any games on our way home, however, because within moments, I felt myself drifting asleep, my hand still in his. And as I drifted off, I couldn't help but feel blissfully, wonderfully happy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **The Animal Ark is a real place (And Shere Khan is a real tiger there) eight hours outside Las Vegas. I did a lot of looking around on their website before writing this chapter, and it looks like a very cool place. In case you were wondering :)**  
><strong>


	10. Time of Your Life

**A/N: **This is for charlibubble :)

A few of you have commented on the copious amounts of fluff this season. So just as a small note - I see season six as G&S's "honeymoon period", their first year together, so that's my reasoning behind the fluff. However, with everything season seven throws at them, there WILL be drama coming up, and there will also be a return to POVs of characters other than G&S. Just so you know :) But I appreciate all of you sticking with me, even through all this sickingly sweet stuff ;)

Spoilers for episode 6x22, Time of Your Death.

* * *

><p>The team filed out of the room, and the two of us were left alone, gazing at each other. The smallest flicker of his eyes – downward – could do so much to me so quickly.<p>

"So," I said in a low voice. "Do you really believe that?"

"That fantasies should be kept private?" he asked. "Yes. I do."

His emphasis on his answer made the corner of my mouth pull up. I was his secret. His fantasy.

And yet…

"How would you feel about sharing one?" I asked. "With me, perhaps?"

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, and then leaned over the glass table.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Exactly what it sounds like."

I realized that it was about time for the day shift to clock on for shift, so I rose from the table, making my way to him. He rose too, standing in place. I made sure to pass closely, brushing my breast against his arm.

"One fantasy each," I said huskily.

I heard the breath catch in his throat, but he managed, "my place in an hour."

I smiled. That didn't take long. Was it possible that he already had a fantasy – chosen and ready to go?

Turned out, he did. He had everything set up by the time I knocked on his front door. And I tried so hard to laugh, I did. But it was hard to contain a giggle fit when there was all his furniture was pushed against the walls, and in its place, an enormous canoe was sitting in the middle of his living room.

My eyes widened.

"Where did you get that?"

"I've had it in storage for ages," he answered. "I never use it, but I don't want to get rid of it."

I blinked.

"Gil," I said slowly. "What kind of fantasy involves a giant canoe?"

"The kind where we make love in it."

I stared at him.

"In _that_?"

"Well, my specific fantasy takes place in a canoe in the rainforest," he explained, taking my elbow and dragging me through the door when we both realized I still hadn't made it inside. "But this should help."

He pulled a remote from behind him and pointed it to the stereo system. The sounds of a jungle rainforest filled his townhouse.

"A soundtrack?" I said in disbelief. "Well, my fantasy seems a little lackluster compared to this."

"We get to do yours too?" he asked, excitement in his voice and his eyes as round as a little boy's.

"Fantasy night," I said softly, stepping nearer. "One time only."

He grinned.

"This was a great idea."

I laughed.

"So how do we get started?"

"There's more," he beamed, handing me a shopping bag. "I was going to save it for next week… our anniversary, you know, but I figured we might as well go all out."

I pushed aside the tissue paper in the bag and pulled out two pieces of very lacy, _very _sexy, dark purple lingerie. They were beautiful, and yet, understated enough not to be over the top. Something I would buy. I looked up at him and was surprised to see him blushing.

"I love it," I said softly. "I'll go change… if… that's okay?"

"Of course."

I scurried off to his bathroom, infinitely more excited about his fantasy. I shed my jeans and t-shirt, slipping into his gift and, when I was done, looked sheepishly at the mirror.

My mouth dropped a little. The panties sat a little higher on my hips, making my legs look even longer than usual. The bra fit perfect (how did he know?) and gave even my modest breasts some considerable cleavage. Both pieces were dark purple and covered in black lace, elegant and gorgeous, and stood out in contrast to my milky skin. I leaned closer to the mirror, wiping smudges of make-up from under my eyes. I pulled the hair tie from my hair, releasing the damp curls that had been drying haphazardly since I showered quickly at my apartment. I dug out a box of bobby pins I kept in Gil's toothpaste drawer, and used a few of them to pin up most of my curls, leaving just a few dangling. I stepped back to look at the final product, and for the first time in a very long time, I actually felt pretty.

So instead of slinking shyly back to Gil and his giant canoe, I walked out confidently, my chin lifted just slightly, and my lips pursed in what I hoped to be a teasing, tantalizing smile. I stopped short when I got to the living room. Gil was butt-naked, bent over the canoe while spreading out a blanket, giving me a full, glorious view.

I cleared my throat a little, my heartbeat quickening, and he turned around.

"Wow," he breathed. "I… wow."

I bit my lip and smiled. Even in the dim lighting – I guess canoe sex was best at twilight in the rainforest – the sight of him was breathtaking. I already felt waves of desire sweeping through me.

"It's your fantasy," I told him.

"Come get in," he said softly.

He had removed the seating boards from the canoe, so I was able to lie flat without anything blocking me. He stood above me, and I flushed deep red at the heat that was already collecting at my core.

"Tell me what to do," I breathed.

"Don't do a thing," he whispered as he climbed on top of me. "My fantasy is all about pleasing you."

And please me he did. He covered my body with the warmth of his, and from the moment our skin made contact, I was ready for him. But he took his time, running his hands all over me, re-discovering every inch and examining every freckle. Neither of us spoke, the recordings of tropical birds and exotic insects echoing around us provided all the ambiance we needed, but when he dipped his hand into the dark purple panties and parted my folds with his fingers, my soft, urgent moans joined the soundtrack.

He teased me, but pleasured me at the same time, knowing exactly where to touch, where to put pressure and how fast to move. His mouth was as busy as his fingers, he had removed the dark purple bra and his tongue was circling one nipple as his free hand played with the other. He moved his way up, kissing my chest and neck, and finally meeting my lips. I cradled his head in my hands, hoping to keep him there. We continued to kiss furiously, and suddenly, he thrust two fingers into me with blinding, wonderful force. I whimpered when he withdrew them, so he put them back, circling slowly, slowly… then faster. I could feel my orgasm building, crashing over me with an unstoppable power.

"Tell me," I moaned. "What to do."

"Let go," he breathed.

And I did. Everything in me went rigid as I felt myself clamp around his fingers. I shuddered and made uncontrollable noises, sweat rolling down my forehead. I was only just regaining consciousness when I felt Gil sliding the dark purple panties down, down my legs. He placed his mouth where his fingers were moments ago, and he had his way with me with his tongue.

When he finished, he straightened up and looked right into my eyes.

"Please," I whispered.

"Turn over," he said.

I was surprised at the forceful tone in his voice, but it only intensified the desire that had not yet melted away. He repositioned me so that I had my back to him, bent over a little, my hands gripping either side of the canoe. I felt him spread my legs apart a little, and his hand slipped around me, his palm against my stomach, holding me to him. His other hand covered mine on the canoe's wall, for support.

"Ready?" he whispered.

I could only nod. He pushed in slowly, deeply, and I groaned.

"You okay?" he whispered in my ear.

I grit my teeth and nodded. He pulled out, only to thrust back in, harder and deeper. I almost lost my grasp on the canoe, and had to reposition my hands for a better hold. Gil's hand on my stomach slid lower, touching me as he moved. He kept everything slow, at first, before both of us felt a need for more, and he plunged again and again, faster and harder. Whatever noises I was making were incomprehensible, all I could focus on was the intense feeling of him moving within me, the electricity resulting from his touch near my center, and the heat of his body pressed so closely against me.

I could hear him moaning, which only did more to intensify my pleasure.

"Sara," he groaned. "Oh God – God, Sara… l-love you. Love you."

I felt my second climax threatening to overtake me, and I turned my head as best I could, to meet Gil's eyes and see if he was ready too. There was no doubt he was. I felt him spill inside me, and I followed, both of us caught in the pinnacle of ecstasy. My body was jelly as I came down, I had no control over my limbs. We both collapsed into the canoe and into each other, sweaty body pressed against sweaty body.

"I think… I found… a new hobby," I panted.

Gil grinned.

"Canoeing?"

I grinned back at him, and leaned into kiss him. He stroked my cheek with a soft finger.

"So, what's your fantasy, dear?"

I shook my head.

"I like yours."

"You promised," he pouted. "One fantasy each. We can do yours tomorrow… Fantasy Night Part Two. One night only."

"Okay, okay," I relented. "It was… sex on the beach. Preferably a tropical one, but I was going to settle for Lake Mead."

A grin tugged at his lips.

"But I like yours better," I said quickly.

"I think I'll like yours just fine," he whispered, kissing my hair.

Bodies exhausted, we stayed put, sleeping beginning to claim us where we laid. Gil's breath was just becoming slow and even when I murmured against his chest.

"Gil?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe we should make this canoe a permanent fixture."

The last thing I heard before I surrendered to sleep was his low, loving chuckle, the last thing I felt, his lips on mine with tender affection.


	11. Don't Let Go

**A/N: **Cheers to the end of season six! I borrowed a bit of dialogue in this one - not mine - I bet you can guess which bit!

And tomorrow, onto season seven, we go!

Spoilers for episode 6x24, Way to Go.

* * *

><p>"To a wonderful year," I said, holding my glass of wine before me. "And many more to come."<p>

Sara beamed.

"Cheers."

We clinked glasses, sipped our wine and in the candlelight, grinned goofily at each other. I held her hand between the plates of pasta.

"I'm sorry we had to cancel our reservations," I told her. "Between things at the hospital…"

"Gil," she interrupted. "Don't. I understand. And this is much better, anyways."

I glanced around the kitchen I'd decked out in bouquets of roses and flickering candles.

"You think?"

"Definitely."

She paused, twirling a strand of pasta around her fork. I watched her carefully, wondering what she was thinking. Finally, I had to ask.

"I don't know," she answered. "Do you… well, I was just thinking of how last year, when we… started this… it was after Nick's rescue. And today, on our first anniversary, Jim just barely pulled through surgery."

"You think we're cursed?"

"You don't think it's a sign of some sort?" she asked.

"No, honey," I said firmly.

"Good," she sighed, relieved. "I'd rather not be cursed."

I chuckled.

"Me either."

Inside, I was bursting with excitement to give her her gift, but I tried not to show it. I waited patiently as she finished her pasta and wine and we ate through the wonderful tiramisu she'd made. But as she reached to clear away the dishes, I couldn't wait any longer. I reached over to the stool at the counter and handed her the wrapped box.

"Happy anniversary, Sara."

She beamed at me, slowly tugging free the ribbons around the package. She slipped the box from the paper, neat as can be, opened it and brushed away the tissue paper. Inside was a silk pink robe, and Sara's face softened as she ran her fingers over the material.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," she breathed, leaving the box to come close to me. "Thank you."

She leaned down to kiss me, and I met her soft, soft lips, never wanting to part from them again. But as she did, she reached into her purse and withdrew an envelope.

"Happy anniversary," she smiled.

I grinned back and tore open the envelope, finding a stack full of tickets to what seemed like every roller coaster park I had heard of, from Busch Gardens in Virginia to Cedar Point in Ohio, inside. I looked up at her.

"A roller coaster tour?"

"For the summer," she explained. "I loved riding the Desperado with you."

"Oh, Sara," I beamed. "This is perfect."

I leaned over to kiss her, and we both broke away smiling.

"So," she hummed. "What do you say I try this on?"

I beamed.

"I'd love that."

She cocked her head and looked at me, putting her hand to my face.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure," I nodded.

"Gil."

"I'm okay," I reaffirmed. "Just… thinking."

She fingered a few of my curls.

"About?" she questioned.

"Jim," I answered. "Life. Love. You."

She smiled and tugged at my hand, pulling me towards my bedroom.

"C'mon."

She lead me right to the bed, and left me there, disappearing into my adjoining bathroom to change. I sprawled out, thinking of how both Nick's and Jim's experiences had taught me such important life lessons. I thought of Jim's daughter, and how if he hadn't made it past surgery, he would have never been able to tell her the things he always wanted to. That was no way to go. I couldn't imagine not knowing when the last time I'd see all the people I cared about would be. Not being able to see Sara one last time, hold her, kiss her.

"You're thinking again," she called from the bathroom.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Life?" she called back.

"I don't know," I began. "Most people want to die in their sleep, I suppose, never know that it's happening. Like a crime scene. Surprise, you're dead. I'd prefer to know in advance I was going to die. I'd like to be diagnosed with cancer, actually. Have some time to prepare. Go back to the rain forest one more time, re-read Moby Dick. Possibly enter an international chess tournament."

She came from the bathroom, pink robe swaying around her. So caught in thought, I didn't look up at her, but I could tell she looked beautiful.

"At least have enough time to say goodbye to the people I love," I finished.

She kneeled beside me, taking my hand and contemplating my words.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye," she said.

She threw me her teasing smile, and I couldn't help but grin back at her. She was so damn cute and sexy all at the same time, and moments later, I was reaching for her. I sprawled her out on my bed, taking her in. I had thought right, she looked beautiful in my gift. I ran my fingers down the soft, silky sleeves, and bent down to kiss her neck. She tilted her head back and sighed.

"You like it?" she murmured.

"I love it," I said against her skin. "But… I have a theory."

"Oh?" Sara giggled. "What's that?"

"I think I might like it better off than on."

I nipped at her skin and she gasped.

"Is that so?" she teased. "Should we find out?"

"Yes," I breathed, kissing her lips before breaking away. "We should."

I reached for the knot in the tie, and spread the robe open, finding that she had left nothing on underneath. She flushed crimson, like she always did when I looked at her like it was for the very first time, darkening her freckled chest and creating heat a little bit lower. I started planting light kisses paired with feathery touches all across her skin, teasing her. Right away, she started twisting and turning beneath me, trying to find pressure where she wanted it. I couldn't tease her for long, every particle in my body groaning for me to please her.

We made love. And just when we were about to catch our breath, we made love again. It was endless passion and harmony with Sara, and we found ourselves discovering that we were beginning to know each other's bodies just as well as we knew our own.

And when Sara's warm, beautiful body was lying pressed against mine, I reached into the dresser drawer and extracted a small brown box, tied with a red ribbon. I placed it on Sara's stomach and smiled at her.

"Gil," she whispered. "What is this?"

"For you," I murmured, kissing her hand.

She picked up the box with her other.

"You didn't have to get anything else."

"I didn't," I said. "Open it."

She did, and inside, she found my spare key, the one she already used. She looked up at me, questioning.

"I want you to move in with me," I told her calmly as her mouth dropped. "Sometime. Soon – I hope – i-if you want. When you're ready."

She stared at the key with tears in her eyes.

"I don't know what to say," I whispered.

"Don't say anything," I said, sliding my palm over her stomach. "Not yet. I-I just want the offer to be on the table."

She pressed her lips together and looked at me.

"You're sure about this?" she asked.

"Oh, honey, yes," I said. "Of course I am. I… I want nothing more than you here with me, every night."

"What about my apartment?" she asked quietly.

"You can keep it," I offered. "If you want. But let's not talk about that now. All I know is that I love you, and if you're ready, I want to do this with you."

Sara turned and placed the key tenderly on the nightstand before turning back towards me and slipping her fingers back into my hair.

"I love you, too," she breathed.

As Sara slid on top of me, my mind started to lose its cognizance at the wonderful, wonderful things her tongue was doing to me, but as she stared working her way down, one fleeting, ephemeral thought crossed my mind.

Third time really _was_ a charm.


End file.
